


Dungeons & Danganronpa

by cakeengland, Night_StormCaptain



Series: Dungeons & Danganronpa [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Multi, its super fluffy and cute, some dr1 kids playing dnd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 05:36:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12698430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeengland/pseuds/cakeengland, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Night_StormCaptain/pseuds/Night_StormCaptain
Summary: Some of the members of Class 78 get together to play Dungeons and Dragons. Hijinks ensue, both within and outside of the campaign.





	1. Chapter 1

“Oh, yeah!  One time Tae decided she wanted to try being a Dungeon Master, so she roped all of us into playing Dungeons and Dragons with her.”  Sayaka giggled a little self-consciously and lowered her voice.  “Turns out, it was actually a lot of fun.”

“What was that like?” Makoto asked.  “I’ve heard of Dungeons and Dragons, but I don’t actually know much about it.”  Having finished their Saturday breakfast, he and Sayaka sat idly in the dining hall, discussing how they had spent their free time before coming to Hope’s Peak Academy -- well, mainly how Sayaka and her idol group had spent theirs.  Makoto’s pastimes of choice had been... less than inspiring.

“You’ve never played?” Sayaka asked, her eyes widening with surprise.  Makoto shook his head no.  “I’m surprised, Makoto!  It seems like your sort of thing.”

Makoto shrugged.  “I guess I wouldn’t know.  Maybe you could tell me a little about it?”

Sayaka leaned forward a bit, an eager gleam lighting up her eyes.  “It’s a high fantasy roleplaying game!  Each member of the party creates a unique character with their own story and different stats and abilities, and they band together to go on an adventure, narrated by the Dungeon Master!  Oh, and the result of pretty much any important situation is determined by making a check based on your character’s stats.”

“Woah, Sayaka, slow down a bit,” Makoto interrupted, trying to take in the rush of information.  “What are checks?”

“Skill checks and ability checks!” Sayaka explained, a wide smile on her face.  “Like if you’re trying to push a boulder aside, you make a strength check.  The result determines if you succeed or not.  To make a check, you just roll a twenty-sided die-”

“Like this one.”  Makoto and Sayaka both jumped; neither of them had heard Celeste enter the room.  She was holding up a small red polyhedron with tiny numbers engraved on its triangular faces.  Before either of them managed to get over their surprise, she tossed it onto the table.  It bounced, then rolled a few centimeters before coming to a halt, the side marked  **20** facing up.

“Woohoo, nat twenty!” Sayaka cheered.  “Nice one, Celeste!”

“Excuse me?”  The puzzlement in Celeste’s voice matched the perplexed expressions both she and Makoto wore.

“Oh, sorry,” Sayaka backpedaled.  “In D&D, when you roll a natural twenty like that for a check, you automatically succeed, and if you roll it for an attack, you get a critical hit.”  Her expression turned serious.  “On the flip side, if you roll a natural  _ one,  _ you automatically fail.  Drastically.”

Makoto paled.  “Why do I get the sense I would roll a lot of those?”

“D&D?” Celeste inquired, reminding the others that she hadn’t been there for the start of the conversation.  Sayaka quickly brought her up to speed.

“This game seems intriguing,” Celeste commented with a playful smile, lacing her fingers together beneath her chin.  “I will play with you.”  She spoke as though it had already been decided.

The idea seemed to excite Sayaka.  “Great!  Hmm, we’ll need a DM, and maybe a couple more players…”  She put a finger to her chin, pondering.

“Wait, are we actually starting our own game?” Makoto exclaimed, taken aback.

“Of course.”  Celeste raised an eyebrow at him.  “You do intend to join us, yes?”

“I, um --”  Makoto stumbled to find words.  “Well, I mean, I wasn’t… that is… yeah, sure!”

Celeste giggled lightly, appeased by his answer.  “Excellent.  Now, in regards to the matter of other players, I believe we should invite Byakuya.”

Makoto frowned.  “Are you sure about that?  I mean, he’s kind of…”

“We are inviting him.”  Her tone, though calm, carried an underlying force that left no room for disagreement.

“What about Sakura?” Sayaka suggested.

“If you believe she would enjoy this sort of event,” Celeste assented dubiously.

“Do you think Kyoko would make a good DM?” Makoto mused, resigned to his fate.

“Solving a mystery is much like unraveling a story, is it not?” Celeste pointed out, one hand resting thoughtfully on her chin.

“Yeah, great idea, Makoto!” Sayaka agreed.  “So, how about we all split up to find the others and meet back here in half an hour?  Celeste, you get Byakuya.  Makoto, you should find Kyoko.  She likes you better than most of our classmates.”  Celeste and Makoto nodded in unison, and the three set off on their separate quests.

* * *

Makoto hesitated outside the door to Kyoko’s dorm, trying to gather the nerve to talk to his intimidatingly beautiful classmate.  Taking a deep breath, he knocked on her door, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he waited for her to answer.

The door opened after a few seconds, Kyoko gazing at him impassively.  “Good morning, Makoto,” she greeted.  “Do you need something?”

“Hi, Kyoko,” he replied, craning his head back to look her in the eyes.  “So, I was talking with Sayaka and Celeste, and we thought it might be fun to start a Dungeons and Dragons group.”  He paused, then realized he hadn’t actually asked his question and she was still watching him expectantly.  “So… would you be interested in being our Dungeon Master?”

Kyoko thought about it for a bit, placing a hand under her chin.  “That would be the person who tells the story, yes?  Why me?”

“Well, I mean, solving mysteries and unraveling stories are pretty similar, right?” Makoto explained, paraphrasing Celeste’s words.

“That is one way to look at it,” Kyoko agreed.  After a moment of further consideration, she nodded.  “Very well.  I will be your Dungeon Master.”

“Thank you!” Makoto exclaimed, a wide grin splitting his face.  “We’re going to meet in the dining hall as a party in--” he hastily pulled out his phone to check the time, “--twelve minutes.”

“I will be there,” Kyoko promised, vanishing back into her dorm.

* * *

“Sakura!” Sayaka chirruped, bursting into the girls’ locker room at the pool, where she knew she’d find the martial artist.  “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

“Of course.”  Sakura dropped down from the pull-up bar, landing neatly and taking a deep swig of the protein drink sitting nearby.  “What did you want to talk about?”

“Celeste, Makoto and I are going to be playing a game of Dungeons and Dragons,” Sayaka answered, a bright smile on her face. “I have a hunch you’d be the sort of person to enjoy it!”

“How did you know that?” Sakura exclaimed.  “My family used to play every week, but I don’t think I’ve mentioned that to anyone here.”

Sayaka giggled, giving her a sly wink.  “Weeeellll… I’m psychic!”

Sakura’s surprise showed on her face only as a slight widening of her eyes, but it was plainly evident in her voice.  “You are?”

At this, Sayaka’s giggling turned to full laughing.  “Not really.  I just have really good intuition!”

Sakura chuckled.  “You had me going for a moment there!  As for joining your D&D campaign, I’d love to.  When will we start?”

“We’re not really sure, but we’re having a meeting in the dining hall to figure it out right away.”

“Sounds good to me.”  Sakura began to pack up her gear, and Sayaka turned and left the dressing room.

* * *

Celeste rapped long and hard on Byakuya’s door.  For the third time.  When he still didn’t answer, she let out a soft growl of impatience.  “Byakuya!” she called.  “If you are in there, answer the door!”

No response.

Celeste let out an exasperated huff and turned to leave, forced to accept the fact that she’d have to go looking for him.  Recalling that he spent much of his time in the school library, she headed up to the second floor to begin her search there.  She flung open the library door to make a dramatic entrance, only to find that it was empty.

A yelp.  “Oh, hey, Celeste!”  Not so empty, then.  Chihiro sat in a corner on the floor, tapping away on his laptop.

“Have you seen Byakuya anywhere?” Celeste asked as soon as she got over her shock at his presence.

“Actually, you, um, just missed him,” said Chihiro ruefully.  “I think he said he was heading back to his room…”

“Figures,” Celeste grumbled under her breath.  She thanked Chihiro, giving him her falsest of smiles before trudging back the way she had come.

By the time Celeste reached Byakuya’s dorm once more, she felt ready to scream.  Restraining herself and assuming a mask of composure, she knocked once more, deciding that she really _ would  _ scream if he still didn’t answer.

After  _ way _ too long to be even close to courteous, Byakuya finally opened the door.  “What do you want?” he asked curtly, not bothering with any sort of pleasantries.

Following his lead, Celeste cut straight to the point.  “For you to join the Dungeons and Dragons campaign that Makoto, Sayaka, and I are starting.”

Byakuya scoffed. “I do not know why you think I would waste my time like that.”

“Because you would enjoy it.”  Celeste kept her face impassive but let a hint of mischief creep into her voice.

“I do not wish to know how late you were up last night to come up with such ridiculous nonsense,” Byakuya said scornfully, scowling and folding his arms.

“Late enough,” Celeste replied evenly.  “You will be joining our ridiculous nonsense, of course.”

“Excuse me?” Byakuya retorted sharply.  “I most certainly will not be.”

“You most certainly will be.”  A hint of steel colored Celeste’s tone.

Byakuya let out an irritated sigh.  “Very well.  If it will get you to stop bothering me, I shall join this… game.”

“Excellent.  We are meeting in the dining hall in precisely four minutes and thirty-seven seconds.  You will be there, will you not?”  Despite the phrasing, it was not a question.

* * *

“Good, everyone’s here!”  Sayaka beamed as Celeste entered the dining hall, a disgruntled Byakuya in tow.  “Before we begin, any questions?”

“I have a question,” Byakuya grumbled.  “What am I doing here?”

Celeste smiled sweetly at him.  “You are shutting up, I believe.”

Byakuya opened his mouth to make a biting retort, but Kyoko cut him off.  “I would like a more detailed explanation of how this will work, if you don’t mind.”

As Sayaka began to explain the basic rules in more depth, Byakuya pointedly turned his back at first, but soon began to take a grudging interest; noticing this, Celeste smiled deviously.  Seemingly oblivious, the pop idol produced six character sheets.  “So, these are your character sheets.  I know most of you are first-timers, so don’t hesitate to ask if you have questions!”  She smiled brightly.

Makoto took one and began scanning it.  “Um… I have no idea what most of this means.”

“I shall assist you,” Sakura rumbled, placing an intricately illustrated book entitled ‘Player’s Handbook’ on the table.  After an hour or so of working, studying, and arguing, the group finished recording the technical aspects of their characters.

“Now for the fun part,” Sayaka giggled, barely able to contain her excitement.  “Character backstories!”

Kyoko, who had been looking up information about Dungeons and Dragons on her phone for most of the time, spoke up.  “Before we begin, I would like to put forth some background on the world in which you will be adventuring.  In this realm, there are two major kingdoms called Ammedora and Ilyith.  The rulers of Ammedora are old, stubborn, and inefficient, leaving their kingdom vulnerable.  Because of this vulnerability, a dark order called the Claws of the Underdark seeks to overthrow it and use their gains to take down Ilyith.”

As soon as Kyoko finished, Celeste sidled up next to her, lowering her voice so only the Dungeon Master could hear her.  “Kyoko, I wish to speak with you about Tyche’s backstory.”

“What is it?” Kyoko inquired.

Celeste glanced at the others.  “I have an idea, but I do not think it prudent for the other players to know just yet.”

“Go on.”

Celeste raised her voice back to a normal level.  “If the rest of you would go elsewhere for a few minutes, I would like to confer privately with the Dungeon Master.”  Her eyes darted from one person to the next, daring anyone to argue.

No one did, filing out of the room, though Byakuya issued Celeste an icy glare.  As soon as the door closed behind them, she turned back to Kyoko.  “I would like Tyche to be a former member of the Claws of the Underdark.”

“I see no issue with that,” Kyoko agreed. “May I ask why you wished to keep this private?”

Celeste planted her palms on the table, leaning forward onto them to give Kyoko an intense stare.  “Tyche would not want to reveal herself to the other members of the party.  Would it not be more realistic if even the players were unaware?”

“That’s true,” Kyoko conceded, but before she could continue, the dining hall doors parted to reveal the last person either of them wanted to see.

“What’s this all about, losers?” demanded Junko Enoshima.

“That is none of your business,” Celeste responded curtly.  “So, if you would kindly move along…”

Junko let out a long  _ hmmm _ .  “Nope, I don’t think I will!  That good-for-nothing cretin who calls herself my sister was getting boring anyway.”  She plopped herself down, reclining back in a chair.  “Soooo, what’s going on?”

“Nothing for you to concern yourself with,” said Kyoko coldly.

“Ooh, so it’s something interesting!”  Her grin may as well have been the devil’s.  “You guys neeeever invite me to fun stuff, so I’m just so, so happy you guys are letting me play this lame game with you!”

Celeste began to protest, but Kyoko held up a hand to silence her.  “I see you won’t be dissuaded.  Very well, you may join.  However, if you cause any trouble, I will be forced to resort to not-so-pleasant measures.”

Junko scoffed.  “As if anything  _ you  _ could do would affect me!”

Kyoko raised an eyebrow.  “Oh?  Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind the whole school knowing your real surname?”

“Her real surname?”  Celeste tilted her head to one side.  “Is it not Enoshima?”

Junko panicked as Kyoko opened her mouth, her insufferable grin vanishing.  “Of course it’s Enoshima, you wannabe vampire!”  She leveled a glare at Kyoko.   _ “Fine,  _ but don’t think it’s because I’m actually scared of your stupid threat.”

“I’m sure you aren’t.”  At this, Kyoko wore the barest hint of a smug smirk.  At this point, the others returned, all of them except for Byakuya casting Junko nervous looks.

“What’s she doing here?” Makoto burst out.

“Ooh, look, it’s the talentless nobody!” Junko sneered.

Kyoko grimaced.  “I would like to introduce our newest party member.”  She gave Junko a very pointed look and added, “She has promised not to stir up trouble.”

“Something about Enoshima not being her real surname,” Celeste added, still giving Junko a very curious look.

“Stop your quacking, emo girl!” Junko snapped.  “Enoshima _ is _ my surname, and that’s that!”

Byakuya quirked an eyebrow.  “Is that so?  I suppose we’ll find out, depending on whether this snivelling sack of snail slime can behave itself.”

“Of course I can, you over-baked baguette!” Junko sneered.  “I’ll have you know I can be better behaved than Sir Screams-A-Lot!”

Sakura spoke up, softly but forcefully.  “Then prove it.”

“Hmph.”  Junko stuck her nose in the air.  “I’m going to be a dragonborn sorcerer.  Green scales, of course.  And his name will be Patrin!”

Kyoko frowned, recognizing the significance of the scale color.  “If you were planning on making your character evil-aligned, you can forget it.”

Makoto cut in before Junko could snipe back.  “ _ His  _ name?”

“Duuuh!” Junko rolled her eyes. “If I had to pick, I’d rather be grouped with the fried shrimp than the tone-deaf mule, the Dracula ripoff and the oversized mute.”

“Might I ask why I was excluded from that unflattering list?” Byakuya inquired a little smugly.

Junko scoffed.  “Of course you weren't, fried shrimp!”

Byakuya scowled.  “Then what, pray tell, is Makoto?”

“You don’t have to include me,” Makoto assured her hastily.

“Oh yeah, he exists!” Junko exclaimed, her eyes widening with exaggerated shock.  “I hadn’t even noticed!”

“But you acknowledged him when he first entered, did you not?” Celeste pointed out.

“Acknowledged who?”

“Let’s move on,” Kyoko interrupted.  Her expression was neutral, but her eyes contained the thinly veiled wrath of the gods.

“There is no point in hurling insults back and forth,” Byakuya agreed, conveniently ignoring the fact that he had hurled more insults than anyone besides Junko.  “I would like to speak to Kyoko alone as well.”

Junko was the first to stand up this time. “Oh, good, some time away from this moldy cheese.”

To their credit, the others ignored her, and Sayaka, Sakura, Makoto, and Celeste followed her wordlessly from the room, leaving Byakuya and Kyoko to confer.

“What is it, Byakuya?” Kyoko asked, secretly grateful for the brief break from Junko, even though she was now left alone with another cactus.

Byakuya drew himself up to his full height.  “Theren is the Crown Prince of Ammedora and the last surviving member of its royal family.”  It was neither a question nor a request.

Thinking of what Celeste had said about Tyche, Kyoko got the feeling things were going to get interesting.  “I am fine with this, but you are aware that that would make Theren easily recognizable to the Claws?”

Byakuya sniffed.  “I have taken that into consideration and decided that with his final breath, the Royal Sorcerer cast a spell to disguise Theren’s face.”

Kyoko merely nodded assent.  “You may come back in,” she called in the direction of the dining hall doors.  As the rest of the party returned, she spoke again to avoid the development of another argument.  “Does anyone else have backstory elements to discuss in private?”

“Actually, Makoto and I do,” Sayaka admitted.

Junko wrinkled her nose.  “Ewww, are you two dating or something?”

“Of course not!” Makoto exclaimed.

Junko continued like she couldn’t hear him. “I just don’t understand why some pretty face claiming to be the Ultimate Pop Sensation would date an unraveling antique rug like him.”

“So, Kyoko, backstory?” Sayaka prompted agitatedly, completely ignoring Junko.

“Ha!  Back when I played this dumb game, no one was so ridiculously secretive about their backstories,” Junko laughed, flipping her hair. “I am proud to announce that Patrin is a member of the Claws, sent to hunt down a traitor!”

Sayaka huffed angrily.  “You can’t just go around blurting things like that out, it’ll ruin the story!”

“Would you just let us discuss this in peace?” Makoto pleaded.

“Annoying couples is my favorite pastime, so…”  Junko mimicked Sayaka’s typical pondering pose, a finger to her chin.  “No!”

“Then you’re out of luck,” Makoto retorted.  “We’re not a couple.”

Kyoko sighed.  “If she refuses to leave, Sayaka, Makoto, if it isn’t too important, you may as well just say it.”

“And I refuse to leave!” Junko chirped in an obnoxious singsong voice.

Sayaka sighed and nodded.  “Okay, so we decided that a bard -- who was actually Aster’s little sister Floris -- got lost in the enchanted forest and ended up spending a night in the shelter of Santolina’s tree, not realizing it housed a hamadryad.  In the morning, Santolina offered to lead her out of the forest if she would teach her music in return.”

Makoto took up the narrative.  “Since it would take a lot longer to teach Santolina music than to guide Floris home, Santolina came to stay with Aster and Floris, who she became great friends with.  This is a little change of subject, but Aster is a highly honored knight of the king of Ilyith.  When the Claws started causing trouble in Ammedora, the king sent Aster to begin the fight to take them down, and Santolina insisted on joining him to guide him through the forest.”

Junko scoffed.  “Like I said, totally dating.”

“I have a crush, and it’s  _ not  _ Sayaka,” Makoto grumbled under his breath.

“Really?” Sayaka exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with interest.  “Who’s the lucky person?”

Makoto’s face flamed.  “Um, let’s not get into that right now.”

Junko rolled her eyes.  “Like she’d ever even notice you, let alone have feelings for you… whoever she is.  Seriously, the only girl who’d ever like you would be a--”

Sensing where that was going, Kyoko cut her off.  “If I recall correctly, D&D stands for Dungeons and Dragons, not Dating and Dorks.”

Makoto stared at his shoes, not sure whether or not to be insulted.  As though she was reading his mind, Sayaka leaned over to whisper, “I think Kyoko just complimented you, in her own special way!”

Makoto whipped his head around to stare at her, unnerved.  “Are you sure?  And how could you tell what I was thinking?”

Sayaka tapped her forehead and grinned.  “Psychic!”

Sakura spoke up, reminding Makoto, Kyoko, Sayaka, and Junko that the rest of the party still existed.  “Nothing about Jasmine’s backstory needs to be hidden.  She was a regular citizen who fled from Ammedora when the Claws attacked and ended up living in a refugee camp on the outskirts of the kingdom.  After a while, a temple of Bahamut was destroyed, so its clerics came to the camp.  Jasmine was interested in their teachings and ended up asking the head cleric if she could join and be trained in their ways.”

Makoto glanced around the room.  “That was everyone, right?”

Kyoko nodded.  “I vote we have our first session next Saturday at ten.  Does anyone object?”

Nobody did, so they went their separate ways to return to their school life and anticipate the coming Saturday.


	2. Chapter 2

Aster glanced around at his surroundings, following a couple of paces behind Santolina.  “Is it just me, or are the trees thinning out?”

“Oh, yes!” Santolina agreed, giving him a bubbly smile.  “We’re nearly at Ammedora. Although, there’s  _ one _ tree that’ll always stick with you.”  She giggled.

“Which I appreciate.”  Aster flashed a bright smile.

Within a few minutes, the trees grew smaller and sparser until Aster and Santolina found themselves at the edge of a wide plain.  In the distance, several lines of smoke rose into the sky, and they could just barely make out the silhouettes of what could have been buildings or tents on the ground beneath.

“Aster, is that another town?” Santolina asked innocently, pointing to the structures.

“Hardly,” Aster replied.  As they approached, it became clear that most of the structures were either tents or makeshift shelters made of rocks or twigs.  “That’ll be a refugee camp, I bet.  Seems like as good a place as any to start.”

Santolina tilted her head.  “If it provides you with your human soil and sunlight, I agree, but what is a refugee camp?”

Aster sighed; such questions had been practically endless throughout their journey.  “A refugee camp is a place where people who’ve been driven from their homes can go until it’s safe to return.  Everyone at the camp up ahead has most likely been driven out by the Claws.”

Santolina gasped, her eyes widening a little.  “That’s terrible!  Have they been setting fires to their towns, or cutting down their trees?”

Aster shook his head.  “Worse.”

“But what could be worse than that?”  Santolina tilted her head.  Having lived in a forest all her life, she only knew what could happen to forests.

Aster avoided meeting her eyes.  “The Claws are ruthless.  They could be killing people, threatening their families, imprisoning or enslaving them, causing them intense pain…”  He trailed off.  “Like I said, worse.”

Santolina’s eyes widened and she gasped.  “But why would humans want to do such an awful thing?  My sisters would never do something like that!”

“Who ever said the Claws were human?”  Aster paused.  “Though I suppose it’s not really a matter of race.  Even some humans are cruel enough to trample on others to get what they want.”

“There are more than hamadryads and humans?” Santolina asked in surprise, then considered.  “Well, I guess I’ve seen some really odd humans, with pointy ears and eyes that are just one solid color!  Once, I saw a human with a tail and these pointy things sticking out of their head.”

Aster laughed.  “Sounds like you saw an eladrin and a tiefling.”  They were nearing the camp now.

“So, who do we find at this refugee camp?” Santolina inquired.  “Ooh, another… eladrin?  The eladrin I saw, she was really pretty!”

“I don’t actually know,” Aster admitted ruefully.  “We’ll talk to people there and see what we can learn about the state of Ammedora and what we can do to help.”

Santolina cast her gaze around, before pointing at a tiefling with dark crimson curls cascading down behind her horns.  “How about her?” she suggested.  “She’s another tiefling, right?  She’s got the tail, and the things sticking out of her head!”

Aster shifted awkwardly.  “I mean, I guess…  There are some dark legends surrounding tieflings, but we could.”

Not paying attention to the dark legends part, Santolina tugged on Aster’s arm.  “C’mon, Aster, let’s go talk to her!”

Aster allowed himself to be dragged over to the tiefling, who regarded the pair with a disdainful look.  “What do you want?”

“Well, Aster and I are here to investigate Ammedora, and do you know anything about it?”  Santolina didn’t really seem to be paying much attention to what she was actually saying, instead poking at the tiefling’s horns.

The tiefling glared at her.  “Back.  Off.”

Aster put a hand on Santolina’s shoulder, gently pulling her back away from the tiefling.   _ Sorry about her,  _ he mouthed.

The tiefling considered briefly, then nodded.  “I may know a thing or two.”

“What do you know?” Santolina asked, then added, “How do you have red hair?  Last time I saw a tiefling, over a hundred years ago, they had brown hair, like Aster!  I thought all creatures, except hamadryads, had brown hair, because Floris had brown hair too.”

“I know more than you, apparently,” the tiefling pointed out drily.  “Ammedora has fallen entirely under the Claws’ control.  King Erdan, Queen Mialee, and Prince Theren are all dead.”

“Dead?  That’s awful!” Santolina gasped, then hesitated.  “Right?  Kings, queens and princes are important people?  Aster, didn’t you say you were here for your king?  Oh, and what are those things coming out of your head?”  The last sentence was addressed to the tiefling.

“Slow down!” Aster exclaimed.  “Yes, royalty are important, yes, I’m here for my king, and those are her horns.”

The tiefling stared at Santolina with undisguised awe.  “How can you be so completely clueless?”

“Oh!”  Santolina clapped her hands together, beaming.  “It’s a really good story.  You see--”

“She’s a tree,” Aster interrupted hastily.

An awkward pause.

“...spirit!  A tree  _ spirit _ !”

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it,” Santolina agreed.  “But did I tell you about that really bad storm 483 years ago?  My poor, dear sister Ri-Ri got pulled out of the ground by her roots… I still miss her.”  A thick, golden substance welled up in her eyes.

The tiefling blinked.  “Four hundred and… is that  _ sap?” _

“Can we maybe get back to topics that, ah, actually matter?” Aster suggested hesitantly.  “For instance, we haven’t been properly introduced.  I am Aster, and this is Santolina.  What’s your name?”

The tiefling was silent for a moment.  “Very well, I shall tell you.  My name is Tyche.”

“Tyche, huh?  Odd name.  What kinda flower is that?” Santolina asked.  “Non-hamadryads name themselves after flowers, right?”

“Excuse me?”  Tyche frowned.

“No, they don’t,” Aster corrected her patiently.  “My mother just happened to name her children after flowers.”

“Huh.”  Santolina seemed puzzled by this for just a moment, before bouncing back.  “So are you named after something?”

“Tyche is the Undercommon word for luck,” Tyche explained.

“And yes, there are  _ many  _ more languages than just Common and Elven,” Aster said before Santolina had a chance to ask.

Santolina hummed, apparently finally appeased, when a sharp, authoritative voice cut across them. “What is going on here?”

Santolina turned to face the new voice, an elf with large, round, chocolatey-brown eyes. “Oh!  Are you an eladrin?  ...oh, but wait, you have pupils, so you can’t be an eladrin.  Right?”  She turned to look at Aster.

Aster nodded, and the elf spoke.  “I assure you, I am no eladrin.  Have you never encountered an elf before?”

“Nope!  Well, maaaaybe I’ve seen elves before…”  She put a finger to her chin, scrunching up her eyes as she thought about it.  “Oh, yeah!  Once, this entire group of elves riding these large animals with four legs came by my tree.  It scared me so bad!”

“Your… tree.”  The elf raised his eyebrows, shooting a concerned glance at Aster and Tyche.

“Yep!” said Santolina blithely.

“She’s a tree spirit,” Aster explained once again.  “Doesn’t get out much, you know?”

Santolina launched into another story.  “We hamadryads don’t leave our trees much!  Well, Lili did, but she never came back, which kinda frightened the rest of us out of leaving.  I was going to stay in that tree for the rest of my life, but then Floris came along, and her songs got my roots wriggling in the earth!  I just had had had  _ had _ to know how to play that lovely music!  See?”  She whipped out her flute and put it to her lips.  For all her naïveté, the melody she played was exquisite -- she certainly knew music, if nothing else.

Aster, Tyche, and the elf applauded politely.  “Well played indeed,” the elf approved.  “May I know your name, tree?  Mine is Theren, after our esteemed prince, may he rest in peace.”  Theren shifted from foot to foot as he spoke.

“I’m Santolina, the oak tree near the middle left of the super duper magical forest!” Santolina answered cheerfully.  “My escortee is Aster, and the tiefling is Tyche!”

Theren’s smile was a little forced, but he nodded graciously to each of them.  He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, a bloodied sentry sprinted into the camp.  “The Claws are coming to attack!  Ready your weapons!  The Claws are coming!”

The sentry collapsed to the ground, and someone yelled, “He’s hurt!”

A short half-elf with golden-brown hair tied in twin braids rushed out of a nearby tent, kneeling beside the sentry and placing her hands over an arrow wound in his left side, her lips moving soundlessly.  After a moment, she rose and shook her head.  “This man gave his life to bring us these tidings.  We must protect those who cannot protect themselves!”

“I’ve never fought before…” Santolina said nervously, mostly but not entirely to Aster.

“That makes two of us,” Theren muttered, a hand darting to the dagger at his belt.

“Floris taught you how to cast spells with songs, yeah?  As long as you remember what she taught you, you’ll do great.”  Aster smiled encouragingly.

Tyche pulled a morningstar from within her cloak and twirled it.  “Bring on the Claws.”

Moving on some sort of instinct, the four new acquaintances moved to stand beside the half-elf.  “Your name?” Aster asked quietly.

“Jasmine,” the half-elf replied.  “Yours?”

“Aster.”  Aster proceeded to introduce the others.

“Pleasure.”  Jasmine half-smiled.  “These Claws won’t know what hit them.”  She drew her mace as well...

* * *

“All right, everyone roll initiative,” Kyoko instructed, grabbing stat cards she had prepared, as well as a set of dice. “Under my rules, that’s a dexterity check, so roll the dice, and add your dexterity modifier.”

Sayaka picked up her pink, transparent d20 and lightly tossed it onto the table.  It rolled for a moment, coming to rest with the side reading  **19** facing up. “Ooh, that’s a pretty good roll!” Sayaka commented, obviously pleased with herself.  “Oh, Santolina has no dexterity modifier, so my initiative is a plain nineteen.”

Sakura picked up her die next, this one a deep blue.  Her throw was surprisingly gentle, skittering across the table for a few seconds before showing a  **16.** “Jasmine also has no dexterity modifier,” she rumbled.

Junko scoffed. “Do I have to roll?”

“Yes, you do,” Kyoko answered patiently, having finished rolling her dice behind her screen. “Patrin will be showing up in this fight.”

Junko rolled her eyes and snatched up her die, which was light red and shimmery.  With far more force than was actually necessary, she threw the die onto the table.  It bounced several times before landing on  **12.** “Make that a thirteen.  Ugh, I totally thought I was going to roll a twenty.”

Byakuya huffed, tossing out his dark green, translucent die.  His throw was more gentle than Junko’s, but not by much.  It came to rest on  **10.**  “Theren’s modifier is a plus three, so that will be thirteen as well.”

Celeste tossed her minuscule, marbled black-and-red die straight into the air.  It came down, bounced several times, and landed on  **16.**  “That would be seventeen.”

Lastly, Makoto rolled his solid lavender die.  It skittered off the table, and he launched himself after it, groaning when he saw what it had landed on.  Placing it on the table exactly how it had landed, he declared, “With Aster’s plus one, that’s a two.”

Byakuya laughed unkindly.  “And yet they call you the Ultimate  _ Lucky  _ Student?”

“Luck isn’t that simple, I think,” Kyoko answered.  “Anyway, a drow clad in chainmail leads the attackers with a longsword and short sword drawn.  Tyche, you understand that they are yelling ‘Glory to the Claws!’ in Undercommon.  Her eyes zero in on Jasmine, spotting the drawn mace and symbol of Bahamut around her neck.  Anger flares in her eyes, and she raises her longsword, the strike whistling through the air towards Jasmine…”  Kyoko picked up her d20 die, rolled it, and checked the result.  She opened her mouth to continue the description…

* * *

The drow’s longsword grazed Jasmine’s shoulder, the mesh of her armor turning the strike away. The rage in her orange eyes grew stronger, and she hissed, “Death to your heretic god!”

“No god is heretical, not even yours,” Jasmine answered simply, assuming the drow was probably a follower of Tiamat.  After that, there was no time for further exchange as a dwarf with a thick, tangled brown beard rushed towards Aster, warhammer in one hand, a shield mounted on the other.  He brought his warhammer hurtling towards the scale-clad knight, but the weak blow simply glanced off.

Another female drow near the back of the raiding party nocked an arrow to her longbow’s string, drawing the thick cord back before letting the arrow sail neatly through the air towards Theren, aiming for his heart.  The arrow didn’t strike true, but it instead lodged itself in the elf’s left shoulder.  “Damn the Claws,” he growled, knuckles whitening as he tightened his grip on his dagger, his free hand ripping the arrow out.

A dragonborn with bronze scales glinting in the light rushed towards Jasmine, longsword drawn.  “Bless Tiamat!” he roared, bringing his weapon into an overhead slash and just barely missing the half-elf’s right shoulder. Her face was set into a frown, though she was relieved the dragonborn didn’t seem to be a particularly good soldier.

Santolina, horrified by all the bloodshed she was seeing, finally acted on instinct.  “Stop it!” she cried, running towards the drow attacking Jasmine with her quarterstaff in her hands.  “Stop trying to hurt these innocent people!”  Her hands shook a little and the strike was clumsy, but her anger gave extra power to the blow.  The drow, surprised by the quarterstaff coming out of nowhere, did not react in time, allowing the young-looking hamadryad to thwack her squarely across the chest.

Taking advantage of the drow’s weakened state, Tyche pointed a finger at her and yelled wordlessly.  A bolt of dark energy crackled from her fingertip, but the drow skipped sideways, causing the blast to flash harmlessly past her before dissipating.  Tyche winced and muttered something untranslatable in Undercommon.

Jasmine’s eyes flickered between the drow, and the blood gushing from Theren’s shoulder, conflicted.  Making up her mind, she murmured a prayer to Bahamut, asking him for the strength to heal the wounded as her mace gleamed with divine radiance.  She swung it viciously at the drow but completely missed her target, connecting instead with the ground.  Her focus broke, and she felt an absence of her deity’s divine energy as her prayer’s power faded.

Another dragonborn with scales of scarlet rushed up, sneering at Jasmine, but his focus was on Santolina. His longsword thrusted forth, but Santolina turned her body slightly, giggling lightly as the weapon went straight past her. She decided she might be getting into his whole ‘defending the innocent’ thing.

Near the back of the raiding party, a dragonborn with green scales twirled a scythe expertly in his hands.  “This is getting boring,” he muttered, before a devious grin spread across his face.  He crept up behind the drow archer, bringing his scythe back over his shoulder, aiming to slice off her neck.  However, he fumbled the strike, and his scythe merely planted into the ground next to his target.

The archer whirled in surprise.  “Patrin!  What in Tiamat’s name do you think you’re doing?” she roared.

Patrin shrugged, nonchalantly picking at his teeth.  “Having fun.  You should try it!”

While they argued, Theren took a deep breath, and ignoring the pain in his shoulder, marched up to the drow Santolina and Jasmine were hassling.  “This is for Ammedora,” he growled, tone deadly, before pulling back his dagger arm, thrusting the blade forward…

* * *

Byakuya boredly dropped his d20 onto the table, watching closely as it tumbled to a halt, landing on  **20** where they could all see it.

The table erupted.  “Great job, Byakuya!” Sayaka cheered, beaming.  “First hit, critical hit!”

“And the first natural twenty of the game,” Sakura noted.

“Impressive,” Celeste approved with a gleam in her eyes.

“Wow, nice!” Makoto exclaimed, then turned to Kyoko.  “So… what exactly does that mean?”

Kyoko had the slightest hint of a smile on her face.  “Byakuya, the weapon die for a dagger is 1d4, correct?”  He nodded.  “Roll 2d4 for damage.”

Byakuya complied, electing to steal Junko’s d4 rather than roll his own twice, and tossed both dice onto the table.  His came up a  **3,** while Junko’s rolled a  **2.** “Theren thrusts his dagger viciously forward between the drow’s ribs, twisting it before ripping it out of her side…”

* * *

The drow let out a shriek of pain, dropping her short sword to clutch at her wound.  “Abominations devour you whole and spit out your bones!” she screamed at Theren.  He wrinkled his nose in disgust, muttering about “dramatics.”

The final member of the raiding party, a female dwarf, loaded a bolt into her crossbow, aiming it at the still-bleeding Theren, and released the trigger.  It thwacked into his stomach, and he recoiled, screaming a creative string of Elven obscenities and the few Dwarven ones he knew.  He was now caked in a concerning amount of his own blood.

Aster let out a grunt as he tore his longsword from its sheath, where it had been thoroughly stuck up until that point.  He rushed forward, shallowly slicing the wounded drow’s forehead and allowing the momentum from his strike to propel him toward the hammer-wielding dwarf who had previously attacked him, though this time his sword grazed past its target, leaving no damage.

The drow now seemed quite worse for wear, blood from multiple wounds staining her armor.  “May you and all your descendants burn in eternal flame,” she growled at Aster, swinging her longsword around to strike at his side, though the blow lacked power and clanged against his armor without penetrating it.

The dwarf with the warhammer, though unharmed, was not happy about being attacked.  However, rage impaired his aim, and the strike missed Aster by a great deal.

Meanwhile, the archer and Patrin had been arguing back and forth, a loose grin ever-present upon the dragonborn’s snout.  Finally, the drow had had enough.  “If you choose to ally with these remnants of pathetic old Ammedora, I will have to wipe you out just the same!”  However, instead of nocking an arrow on her longbow’s string, she drew her short sword with a sleek  _ shing!   _ Patrin, taken aback by the new weapon, did not react in time; the sword sliced through cloth and left a bleeding wound in his chest scales.  Nevertheless, Patrin’s smug smile didn’t fade; this was all simply a game to him.

The bronze-scaled dragonborn was beyond frustrated at this point.  “Just surrender!” he yelled to the group before him.

“Never!” Aster shouted defiantly.  At this provocation, the dragonborn let out a battle cry, rushing blindly toward the knight… and straight past him.  Aster’s head turned as his frenzied enemy charged by and drove his sword into the back of his bloodied drow ally.  The drow let out a pained shriek, and the dragonborn’s eyes widened with horror as he realized what he had just done.

“Ha!  That’s what you get for attacking innocents!”  Santolina announced triumphantly, surging forth.  Her strike with the quarterstaff was more confident this time, smashing into the strike smashing into the drow’s left shoulder and nearly breaking her neck.

Tyche saw her chance; she rushed forward with her morningstar, raising the weapon high above her head and bringing it down with as much force as she could muster…

* * *

Picking up her d10, Celeste very lightly tossed it onto the table. It bounced twice, rolled for a moment, before coming to rest with its  **10** face showing.

A slight chuckled escaped Kyoko, and immediately all eyes were on her.  There was an honest  _ smirk _ on Kyoko’s face as she began to narrate the results.  “The drow’s skull shatters under the force of Tyche’s blow.  She doesn’t even have time to react before she dies, slumping to the ground.  Blood pools beneath the corpse.”

Celeste smiled sweetly, lacing her fingers under her chin.  “I believe that first kill goes to me, yes?”

Sayaka nodded, still a bit shocked from the drow’s brutal death.  “Seems like it, yeah!”

“That was… that was brutal,” Makoto commented, his eyes a little wide.

“Well, she only had three hit points left,” Kyoko remarked, still smirking faintly.  “I needed to represent the seven points of overkill somehow.”

“Let’s continue,” Byakuya remarked sharply.

Kyoko nodded.  “It’s Jasmine’s turn.”

Sakura opened her mouth to narrate her character’s actions…

* * *

Jasmine bowed her head, murmuring a quick prayer in hopes it would help guide the drow’s soul safely to the afterlife.  Next, she turned her sights to Theren, saying a brief prayer that beseeched her god to heal the elf’s wounds.  A glowing golden light washed over Theren, causing his wounds to begin to heal, skin sewing itself back together with invisible thread.  Once Jasmine’s prayer had finished its job, there was no sign Theren had ever been injured aside from the sheer amount of blood on him.  Theren gave the half-elf a quick nod of gratitude.

Still, Jasmine wasn’t done.  Glancing back at the dwarf and dragonborns they still fought, she pointed her mace at the dwarf, shouting a word of divine power.  Bahamut, apparently pleased by the work she was doing, shone down sacred light from above onto the dwarf.  Having spent so long in the utter darkness of the Underdark, the dwarf was nearly blinded, squinting and flailing as the light scalded him.  He recovered quickly enough, glaring at Jasmine with watering eyes.

But Bahamut had another gift to give.  Jasmine pointed a finger at Theren, and the blond elf felt a new wellspring of vitality bubble up within him.  With that final blessing, Jasmine felt the active power of her deity fade.

The scarlet-scaled dragonborn faltered, merely for a moment, then scowled.  “Tiamat is more powerful than your silly excuse for a god!”  Inhaling deeply, he let a cloud of cold air emerge from his lungs, chilling those unfortunate enough to be in front of him; that is, everyone except Patrin.

Meanwhile, Patrin considered the archer with a glint in his eyes.  “You know, you don’t deserve to have my brilliant magic wasted on you,” he said in a conversational tone, “but you also don’t deserve to witness the full majesty of a dragonborn, and that scythe was kinda unwieldy anyway.”  Before she even had time to fully comprehend his words, Patrin had summoned a bolt of many-coloured lights to his hand.  He held his hand up and it leapt forward, screaming through the air before seeming to be absorbed into the archer’s head, and her eyes widened in alarm as she put her free hand to her temples, wincing.

Patrin’s theatrics had attracted the attention of the dwarf with the crossbow.  Turning, her eyes widened when she saw one of her own viciously assaulting another ally.  Immediately, she loaded a bolt into her crossbow and let it fly, but it went sailing right over Patrin’s head.  The dragonborn poked his tongue out at her.

Aster fixed his sights on the hammer-armed dwarf whom he had attempted to attack and failed earlier.  Gripping his longsword in both hands, he swung it fiercely at the dwarf, cutting deep into his left shoulder before withdrawing the blade, fixing his enemy with a fierce glare and deciding if the dwarf tried anything on any of his allies, he would intercede.

The dwarf sensed the determination radiating from him, and sneered.  “You wanna turn this into a duel, huh?”

“That’s a way of looking at it,” Aster agreed.  “I dare you to ignore me and see what happens.”

The dwarf laughed.  “I may be a Claw, but I love an old-fashioned duel of honour.  How ‘bout it?  I don’t hurt your allies, your allies don’t hurt me.  Duel to the death.”

Aster took a bow, his eyes never leaving the dwarf.  “The same must go for your allies and me, but I accept.  Everyone, this kill is mine, so don’t attack him!”

“Yeah, yeah.”  He waved a hand dismissively, calling back, “Hey, Lia, Patrin, Riswynn, don’t attack the human!”  Without further ado, he lunged forward at Aster, but instead of actually hitting his target, he merely planted his weapon into the dirt beside him.

Meanwhile, the drow, Lia, was still engaged in a fight with Patrin.  “You’ll pay for that, you bloody brat!”

Patrin laughed.  “Bloody brat?  Come on, you can do better, you slug sandwich on burnt bread!”

Enraged, Lia struck at him with her short sword, missing him completely.  He laughed harder, but stopped when she followed up with a backhand swing that sliced deep into his chest.  He staggered backward, clutching at the wound as blood streamed freely from it. The smug look had been wiped clean off his face, self-preservation instincts finally taking over.

While Patrin experienced his first pangs of panic, the bronze-scaled dragonborn gritted his teeth.  “You’re persistent brats, I’ll give you that.  But none of that matters!  Ammedora is already ours, and once we wipe out these refugee camps, Ilyith will soon follow!”  He seemed to have recognized that Jasmine made the party as a whole a bigger threat with her healing, and he cleanly slashed at her with his longsword.  Though his strike barely connected, it opened a fairly deep cut on her right shoulder.

Meanwhile, with Aster engaged in a duel with the dwarf, Santolina decided that this dragonborn was her new priority.  “We won’t let you take Ilyith!” she cried, recalling a technique Floris had taught her.  She sang a short verse from a song about a farmer’s son who led the army of a dying kingdom to an unlikely victory, striking out with her quarterstaff as she did so.  The strike rang true, the bronze dragonborn reeling as he took his first hit.

Tyche followed up on Santolina’s attack, surging forth with her morningstar.  Her attack was not quite as powerful as the hamadryad’s, only catching the dragonborn under the chin.  Nevertheless, the bleeding gash was another wound that added to his rapidly weakening state.  Seeing this, and remembering the song Santolina had sung only moments before, Tyche felt the strength to battle on bubble forth within her.

Jasmine nodded in approval, joining the fight against the bronze dragonborn as she beseeched Bahamut to send his sacred light once again.  Apparently, the dragon god was pleased by Jasmine’s work today, for he sent down another column of golden light on the unfortunate dragonborn.  The inspiration from Santolina’s song rang in the half-elf’s mind, and as a sign of gratitude, she bestowed Bahamut’s vitality upon the bard.

This gesture was quickly repaid in kind as Santolina invented a new line of a song honouring Jasmine and her god’s power.  “It’ll be the first line in an epic saga about our adventures!” she explained, and Jasmine smiled at the recognition.

The scarlet-scaled dragonborn growled upon hearing this.  “You brats won’t live to complete that saga!” he snarled, viciously striking at Santolina.  The blow slammed into her left forearm and Santolina felt Bahamut’s blessing fade, though she quickly realized that was only because its power was spent protecting her from some of the damage.

Patrin, meanwhile, considered Lia and the female dwarf, Riswynn.  He took a deep breath, drawing on his internal strength.  Blood still coated his green scales red, but he felt he was strong enough to beseech that cleric for aid.  Poking his tongue out at Lia and Riswynn, he grabbed his scythe out of the ground and sprinted over to the Ammedorian allies.  “Heal me! I’m fighting these boring slugs who crawled from their hibernation holes just this morning like you!”

The party was taken aback by the sudden presence of another bloodied dragonborn, but before they could react, Patrin turned to the the bronze dragonborn.  “I love the new scale job,” he commented, as though they were talking about the weather, “but I think I know how to make it  _ pop!”   _ In the next breath, his scythe was hurtling through the air towards the dragonborn, narrowly missing beheading him and instead leaving a deep, bleeding wound on his chest.

Theren saw the advantage, stabbing forwards with his dagger and very narrowly missing the dragonborn’s heart as his dagger plunged right through the thick scales.  As he drew his dagger out, the dragonborn coughed up blood, caking himself in more of the life-giving substance.  “When I die here,” he rasped, “I give up my soul to Tiamat, so that her blessings will guide the Claws to further victory!”

Riswynn glared at the party.  “If Patrin hadn’t turned on us, our victory would have been assured!” she yelled.  “But know this- the Claws will never falter!”  She loaded a crossbow bolt, firing it at Patrin, who was still pretty worse for wear.  The bolt grazed his right shoulder before landing in the ground, but it had still opened a graze that quickly welled up with blood.

Meanwhile, Aster was still locked in his duel with the male dwarf.  He brought his longsword into an overhead slice, opening a long, deep cut down the dwarf’s chest that bled a river of red.  At this point, victory for the dwarf was  _ highly _ unlikely.

Still, under the rules of their duel, the dwarf could not give up.  He brought his warhammer back for another strike, leaping up and lunging at Aster… only to lose control of his weapon without solid ground beneath his feet.

The heavy weapon slammed into the skull of the nearly dead dragonborn, crushing it instantaneously.  Blood and and other… less stomachable substances oozed out of the corpse.

While everyone stared in horror, Theren retched.  Thankfully, he’d had a light breakfast, a fact he commented on as he wiped a line of saliva and bile off his chin.

“So… is the duel off?” Aster asked uncertainly.  The rules hadn’t covered attacking your  _ own _ allies.

“That… that was an accident!” the dwarf exclaimed, trying to hide his horror.  “So the duel continues!”

Lia groaned, her longbow back in her hand.  “You’re so dramatic, Adrik,” she muttered, loosing an arrow at Patrin.  It sailed through the air…

* * *

“...the arrow lands just above Patrin’s heart, missing the organ by a hair’s breath,” Kyoko narrated, her tone deadly serious.  “He collapses to the ground, unconscious, barely clinging to life.”  She raised her gaze to look Junko in the eyes.  “At the end of your turns, you’ll have to make death saving throws.”

Junko scoffed, winding a strand of hair around her pinkie.  “I know, I know.  But these losers won’t let me die, right?”

Sayaka sighed.  “She’s right.  We can’t just let Patrin die…”

Kyoko nodded.  “Alright, Santolina, it’s your turn.”

* * *

 

Santolina, along with the rest of the party, stood frozen, staring at the dying dragonborn in horror.  Lia, meanwhile, wore a faint smirk.

Santolina shook herself out of it first.  “How dare you!” she cried, before beginning to exclaim sentences riddled with arcane power and majesty.  As she wove her spell, Patrin’s eyes blinked open, and he yawned.

“That was a nice nap,” he hummed.  “Now, I think it’s time to get this party rolling again!”

Santolina, still shaking with anger, merely nodded.  Her eyes locked with Lia’s, and the furious hamadryad let out a shout.  It was a simple sentence of encouragement for her allies, really, but with her magic, it send Lia reeling with pain.

Tyche was close on her heels, morningstar striking out with deadly precision.  She slammed the weapon into Lia’s temple, and the drow slumped to the ground lifelessly, longbow falling from her grip.  The lingering magic of Santolina’s shout invigorated her as she watched the corpse fall.

Jasmine gave them an approving nod, but quickly turned to Patrin, who was still badly injured, murmuring another healing prayer.  As her divine power washed over the green dragonborn, his more serious wounds began to heal.

“Huh, so your fancy words actually do something after all!” Patrin giggled.  Jasmine merely sighed in response.

She turned her sights to the scarlet-scaled dragonborn.  “I think it’s time to end this,” she murmured, whispering a minor defensive prayer for herself and Patrin as she surged forth, her mace thudding into the dragonborn’s right shoulder.

The dragonborn hissed in pain, instinctively striking at Jasmine in retaliation.  However, he missed horrendously, the strike not landing anywhere  _ near _ Jasmine.

Patrin grinned.  “I think it’s time to show you all some _ real _ magic!”  With a flick of his wrist, flames sprung into existence around the dragonborn, the heat causing its condition to worsen rapidly.  The sheer heat left the dragonborn close to death.

Theren, seeing an opportunity, lunged forward, the flames parting to let him through.  His strike managed to carve off several scales, leaving the scarlet dragonborn on his last legs.

Riswynn growled in displeasure, seeing they would not win this fight, but she refused to go back to the Claws with a report of defeat.  She aimed for Patrin once more, and this time the bolt barely lodged itself into the scales just above his left elbow.

Aster, at this point, was nearly oblivious to the fight around him, focused on his duel.  Both hands gripping his longsword, the knight neatly slashed at the dwarf, skimming off a fair portion of the skin on the dwarf’s left arm.

Hissing, the dwarf made a move to retaliate, though there was little else he could do.  Swinging forth with his warhammer, he was finally able to land a hit on Aster.  The blow smashed into Aster’s hip, and he winced; he didn’t feel any bones break, but it hurt nonetheless.

Santolina, meanwhile, approached the scarlet dragonborn.  Once again, Patrin’s flames parted for her.  With shaking hands, she brought her quarterstaff down on the dragonborn’s head.  He went rigid, before falling to the ground with a loud  _ thunk,  _ never to move again.

Now, only the two dwarves were left.  One was locked in the duel with Aster, so Tyche went for Riswynn, who had been weakened by the heat of Patrin’s flames.  Her morningstar came crashing down on Riswynn’s ribcage, and the dwarf winced in pain as bones cracked. Agonizing pain shot through her, but she was determined to fight on, despite every movement now causing her pain.

Jasmine felt a pang of sympathy.   _ Best we put her out of her misery soon,  _ she thought to herself, rushing forward with her mace. The weapon slammed into Riswynn’s right elbow, and she cried out, blinking away the tears of pain that tried to well up.

Patrin snickered.  “Come on, just get it over and done with already!”  He summoned the same bolt of light that he’d used on Lia, and as it appeared to be absorbed into Riswynn’s head, and she simply fell to the ground, eyes still open.  Blood poured from her wounds, but Patrin’s odd spell had completely shut down her mind- a living death of sorts, though that wouldn’t last long.  His zone of flames also disappeared, the spell’s energy spent.

Theren boredly spun his dagger in his hands, debating whether he should interrupt Aster and the dwarf’s duel.  He decided he would- there were no other enemies to bother the party, after all.  He lunged forward, cleanly stabbing his dagger into the dwarf’s right armpit.  It was easy, as the dwarf wasn’t expecting the attack.  Taking advantage of the dwarf’s surprise, he pulled out the dagger, next planting it into the dwarf’s right shoulder.

Aster’s eyes widened in horror as the terms of the duel were broken.  Still, he had to end this, one way or another.  Lunging forward, he stabbed his longsword straight through the dwarf’s heart.  He fell to the ground just as his eyes widened in horror and anger, forever frozen in that expression.

Theren pulled his dagger out and sheathed it, before heading over to Lia’s corpse and grabbing her quiver, which still held twenty-eight arrows.  As he did so, Aster stormed over to him.  “You broke the terms of the duel,” he accused.

“I did,” Theren agreed evenly.  “What of it?”

“Do you have no sense of honor?”

Theren merely shrugged.  “There were no other enemies, and I wanted a quick end to the battle.”

Aster gritted his teeth.  “I had it under control.”

“It does not matter now,” Tyche interceded.  “He is dead, and the camp is safe, so why are you complaining?”

“She’s right,” Jasmine agreed.  “What matters now is making sure nobody else was hurt, and resting up to recover from that skirmish.”

“Are the rest of you gonna help me and Aster take down the Claws?” Santolina asked, bouncing excitedly.

Jasmine was the first to reply.  “I will join you,” she said decisively.  “The Claws  _ must  _ be stopped, and I would rather help than stand by and do nothing.”

“I’m in!” Patrin declared, giving no explanation.

“I as well,” Theren agreed.  “You may find my help more useful than you realize.”

All heads turned to regard Tyche, who seemed deep in thought.  Eventually, she nodded briefly.  “I will join you in the fight.”

“Yay!” Santolina cheered.

“I look forward to fighting at your sides,” Aster declared to the group in general, though he cast a suspicious glance at Patrin.

Patrin noticed, picking at his teeth.  “Hey, whatcha looking at me like that for?”

Aster shrugged nonchalantly.  “I sincerely hope that you truly have changed sides,” he commented.

The dragonborn tilted his head.  “There’s sides?”

Aster blinked.  “The Claws of the Underdark and the people of Ammedora and Ilyith?” he prompted a little incredulously.

“Huh.”  Patrin considered.  “It’s decided, there’s going to be a third side: fun!”

“There is nothing fun about this!” Theren protested.

“Um, yeah there is?”  Patrin giggled.  “Even slowly dying for a bit was fun!”

Theren glowered at him.  “I can arrange that for you again if you keep talking like that.”

Tyche interceded.  “I do not believe that is necessary.  What we all need now is food and rest.”

Jasmine nodded her agreement.  “I can offer one of my temple’s tents for everyone to stay in for tonight.”  Nobody argued, and they headed off in the direction of Jasmine’s tent…

* * *

“I think that’s a good closing point for today’s session,” Kyoko announced, before indicating the clock.  “I think some of us have things to do soon, anyway.”

As she finished speaking, the door creaked open.  “Junko?  You in here?”  It was Mukuro.

“No, I’m in space, you limp piece of kelp,” Junko replied sarcastically.  “What do  _ you  _ want?”

“You’ve been causing trouble, haven’t you,” Mukuro deadpanned.

“Yep!” said Junko cheerfully.

“No, actually,” Kyoko answered at the same time.  “She proved surprisingly cooperative.”  At this, Junko stuck out her tongue at Kyoko.

“Cooperative… with what, exactly?” Mukuro inquired a little hesitantly.

“She insisted upon joining our D&D campaign,” Byakuya explained disdainfully.  “Kyoko made her promise not to ruin it for us, though I have my doubts.”

“Oh!”  Mukuro’s eyes widened.  “We used to always--”

“Shut  _ up,  _ you dead cow in a harpy costume,” Junko snarled.

Mukuro shrank back.  “Sorry,” she said in a small voice.  Turning away from her sister, she addressed the rest of the party.  “You said you’re playing D&D?”

“Yep!” said Sayaka cheerily.  “You wanna join?”

Junko glared daggers, and Mukuro hastily shook her head.  “No… just, could I sit in on your sessions sometimes and watch?”

“I don’t see why not,” Sakura assented.

“I mean, if you want to,” Makoto offered.

“I see no issue with this,” Celeste put in.

“Are none of you considering the fact that with her present, she and Junko will spend the whole time bickering?” Byakuya protested.

“Meh, let the piece of grease-coated pocket lint come,” Junko grumbled, then turned to Mukuro.  “Just don’t talk or interfere with anything!”

“Thank you,” said Mukuro earnestly.  With that, she left the dining hall, and the whole party went their separate ways.

**Author's Note:**

> For reference:
> 
> Kyoko - DM  
> Makoto - human fighter (Aster)  
> Sayaka - hamadryad bard (Santolina)  
> Junko - dragonborn sorcerer (Patrin)  
> Sakura - half-elf cleric (Jasmine)  
> Celeste - tiefling warlock (Tyche)  
> Byakuya - elf rogue (Theren)


End file.
